


Big and Small

by cuddleefuddlee



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Friends to Lovers, Japanese National Team, M/M, Pining, Post-Time Skip, clowntsumu, he's back babey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 14:48:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29668893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuddleefuddlee/pseuds/cuddleefuddlee
Summary: The first time Atsumu realizes he’s in love is in the middle of a game. Which, when he looks back at it, is such a damn cliche since his entire life revolves around the sport. But, that’s beside the point because at the moment Komori Motoya hits his service ace Atsumu feels something in chest change.
Relationships: Komori Motoya/Miya Atsumu
Comments: 18
Kudos: 26
Collections: Haikyuu Writer Jukebox Round One - Mitski





	Big and Small

**Author's Note:**

> she's baaaaack with atsukomo!!! i love these two sm and i'm so glad i was able to write them for hq jukebox! and before anyone yells at me for the angst in this fic, just know that i have some fluff planned for them in the future
> 
> anyway this fic is dedicated to xin, the loml, bc she brought atsukomo into my life and i can't thank her enough. and i owe nae a huge shoutout for being an icon while i wrote this, and for not only sitting in my doc to make sure i was writing but for also reading through and helping me edit. LOVE U BOTH SM!!!

_“Venus, planet of love, was destroyed by global warming. Did its people want too much too?”_

The first time Atsumu realizes he’s in love is in the middle of a game. Which, when he looks back at it, is such a damn cliche since his entire life revolves around the sport. But, that’s beside the point because at the moment Komori Motoya receives his service ace, Atsumu feels something in chest change.

At first, he assumes that it’s annoyance blooming within him again. How can someone with eyebrows like those hit a service ace like that? It shouldn’t be possible, really. Not even _Akagi_ can receive his serves when he’s on fire.

And yet, the grin that slices across Motoyas face is one that makes Atsumus heart race more than knowing the ball is headed back toward their side of the court. Volleyball has always been exciting for him, but this? This is a whole new level of excitement that he never thought was possible. It makes him want to pick Motoya apart and see what makes him tick.

Which is exactly why he targets the libero for the next set.

It becomes a game between the two of them. Atsumu watches Motoya like a hawk watches prey, takes note of his moves and what areas he likes to cover depending on where the ball is. While Motoya glances at him whenever he does a limbo set or something exciting happens. The whole set makes Atsumu want to play for hours with him, he wants to learn every little thing he can about the libero just from watching him play.

That desire is ripped out from under Atsumu as soon as the last point is scored and he learns that they’ve lost. The fire that burned through his veins during the game is suddenly extinguished, replaced with the dread that comes after a loss.

 _It’s not fair_ , he thinks, _we were just getting started_.

Atsumu sulks through the handshakes, not paying much attention to the face that belongs to the hand. He knows that Kita will scold him if he throws a tantrum now that everything is said and done, so he keeps his mouth shut as he moves through the line.

“Hey.”

Atsumu looks away from the hands in front of him to see the same grin he spent most of the game paying attention to.

“It was fun playing with you.” The other boy leans closer to the net, squeezing Atsumus's hand for just a moment. “You were fun to watch, Miya.”

Atsumu feels that same flicker of interest come to life again, can feel it burn through his fingertips as they stand there with matching smiles.

“See ya around, Motoya-kun. It was fun.”

_“Guess I’m a coward. I just want to feel alright.”_

“Could ya shut up?” Osamu snaps. “It’s been Toya-kun this, Toya-kun that since ya got back from the camp and I can’t hear my own thoughts.”

Atsumu pouts. “He’s not the only thing—”

“‘Did ya know Toya-kun can do the splits?’' Osamu cuts him off before barreling on. “‘Toya-kun told me about this new band! Toya-kun has a Slowpoke kigurumi!’ It’s like ya have a crush on him or something.”

The silence that Osamu’s met with is enough of an answer, but of course, Osamu needs to hear his twin say it. If not for confirmation, but to embarrass the hell out of his twin.

“You _do_ have a crush on him!”

The sound of Atsumu choking on his juice is the exact answer Osamu is looking for, and the smug smile on his face only grows with each passing second. Atsumu feels like he’s going to die from pure embarrassment and decides his best option is to pack all of his things and hide out in the woods for the rest of his life.

He feels a blush crawl across this face, down his neck, to the tops of his ears. Atsumu hates that he’s been so easy to read - or maybe Osamu is too good at reading him. He didn’t even realize he had a crush on Motoya until orange juice was spilling onto his shirt, and flashbacks of the time he spent with the libero flash through his mind and how, during most of their free time, it was each other they both opted to hang out with.

“Shut up, Samu!” He whines, feet stomping out of the kitchen and back to their room. “It’s not like ya ever shut up about Omi!”

“At least I’m not pining over Omi, ya scrub!”

It’s the last thing Atsumu hears before slamming the door shut behind him. He had to be wrong, there is no way Atsumu would have a crush on Motoya. No, they are friends - best friends even. Having a crush on him would ruin everything. The whole relationship that they’ve built up over the last year would crumble into nothing, and Atsumu would be left with a gaping hole in his life.

Sure, the other boy was cute. Sure, he made Atsumu laugh at stupid jokes or photos of Omi dressed like a highlighter. Sure, Atsumu was caught texting Motoya in class on more than one occasion. But, that’s because _they’re friends_. All friends act like that, don’t they?

Atsumu thinks about how he acts with the rest of the team, with Gin and Suna and everyone else that he can consider a friend. He never particularly cared about how he acted with any of them, never wanted to impress them quite like he does Motoya - which is weird. Atsumu isn’t one to bother with all of that. It’s usually someone else trying to impress him and have him shine his light on them for the briefest of moments.

It dawns on Atsumu that Motoya is the exception to everything he knows. Which is a realization that makes him fall against the door and sink to the ground.

Motoya is the only one that has ever caught Atsumu’s attention for more than a few moments. Ever since that first game together, he spent his time wanting to learn everything he can about the other boy. He hangs onto each of his words whenever they talk, he tries making him laugh at some dumb joke he heard; he tries rationalizing that one by saying Motoya has a nice laugh before realizing that doesn’t help at all.

Atsumu looks down at his hands, callused and rough and used to wielding power, and wonders if they will ever be soft enough to hold hands with the libero.

He likes Motoya. He really, really likes Motoya.

Atsumu looks down at the spot of juice soaking through his shirt, any hopes of getting rid of the stain long gone, and sighs.

He finally gives a voice to all of the things he’s been ignoring. “I have a crush on Toya.”

_“I’ve been big and small, and big and small, and big and small and still nobody wants me.”_

Motoya is the first person outside of Inarizaki that Atsumu tells about MSBY. Which is something he tries not to dwell on too much because he can hear Osamu making fun of him for it.

The thing is, it just feels natural to tell Motoya about it. They’ve spent hours on the phone, talking about their options and what their future plans are. So it’s only natural for him to tell Motoya when he officially signs the paperwork. It just feels _right_.

Just thinking of the two of them playing together lights something within Atsumu. It excites him knowing that they could play together on the same side of the court, that they could be more than just the net that stands between them. That thought alone is enough to make him press the call button that afternoon.

Atsumu isn’t sure what type of reaction he is expecting from Motoya. He knows the other will be happy, that much is obvious, but will he be excited is the real question. The worry that Motoya doesn’t want to play with him anymore takes root in his chest as the phone rings. He knows that the chance is slim, but it is possible.

Maybe Motoya finally got bored of someone like him. Maybe he wants to play with someone more skilled, someone less obnoxious than him. Would they replace Atsumu in Motoya's mind? It makes his chest squeeze; something that he thought was locked away making an appearance when he thought it was well hidden.

The dial tone clicks away and Atsumu opens his mouth.

“Did you sign with MSBY?” Montoya's tinny voice rings in his ear, excitement clear even through the static.

“You’re talking to the newest Black Jackal, Toya-kun. How’s it feel?”

“I don’t know, how does it feel to talk to the newest member of EJP?”

The news that they’re on different teams makes Atsumu hesitate. He was hoping that finally, they would be on the same side of the net, as teammates and not opponents. Before Motoya can catch onto him though, he congratulates him. It’s not a lie that Atsumu’s happy for him even if his own selfishness isn’t.

“Hey Tsumu, aren’t you excited to play together again?”

Motoya is also the first person he calls about making the National team.

Though, it’s more correct to say Motoya called him, and not the other way around. Atsumu was planning on calling him first but got caught up in what to say because he wanted to sound all cool. Even years later, he still wants to impress Motoya. It’s almost second nature for him to do it these days.

Playing together in the V. League is fun. It’s a good time to keep each other on their toes when it’s been a while since they’ve each other. They even get to roast each other on Twitter when one says something salty about their play.

But, the nagging desire of wanting to play on the same team rears its ugly head. There’s nothing quite the same as being teammates, a kinship that’s closer than just friends. They’re forced to rely on each other for support throughout each set. A new level of trust that the two have yet to connect on.

Now is his chance.

Atsumu’s in the middle of finally deciding what to open with when Motoyas name flashes across his screen. A smile falls across his lips as he answers, but the other speak before him.

“Excited to play on the same side of the court?”

Joy floods through his system at those words. It's confirmation that even after all of these years, Motoya still wants to play with him, still wants him in a way. 

Atsumu grins as he answers. "It took ya long enough." 

_“And I don’t want your pity. I just need somebody with me.”_

After ten years of friendship and growing to know each other, it only takes seconds for their entire relationship to crumble into pieces.

Atsumu knows that the conversation is heading in the wrong direction when Bokuto starts talking about how he and Kuroo knew they would be fine when they started dating because they were friends first. It’s dangerous territory in the first place, but it all goes downhill when he hears Motoya join in.

“I don’t know,” Motoya starts. “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with hooking up with a friend, but dating? That sounds like a disaster.”

Atsumu’s hand freezes, coffee cup halfway to his mouth now hanging in midair. At first, he thinks that maybe he heard wrong. That maybe Motoya was saying something else and Atsumu was too tired to figure it out.

“What if things don’t work out? You’re both left with nothing and your other friends have to figure out who to side with.”

Suna glances at him over his own mug, concern written in his features. It’s obvious from the look on his face that he’s worried. He knows better than everyone else at this table how Atsumu feels, and while Atsumu appreciates it, the last thing he wants right now is the other's pity. It only makes him sink further into his chair in an attempt to shrink away.

His brain screams at him to say something, _anything_ , before he can get hurt even more. But his body refuses to listen to it. He feels stuck to the chair, replaying this moment over in his mind without forming a response.

The conversation continues around him, unaware of what is happening to Atsumu. This is even worse than he imagined a rejection to be. At least in his thoughts, he didn’t have to be surrounded by their teammates.

Atsumu needs to get out of here before it’s too late. He places the mug back on the table, ignoring the coffee that spills onto his hand.

“I think I’m gonna head out,” Atsumu says, pushing himself out of his seat before anyone can do anything to stop him. “Not really feeling brunch today.”

“Tsumu—”

“I’m fine, Suna,” Atsumu says. He feels Motoyas eyes on him. “Just need to leave.”

He hears their friends call after him but ignores them.

“Fuck, Motoya. You just had to say something to finally break his heart, didn’t you?”

The door closes behind Atsumu before he can turn back and clean up his mess.

_“I just need someone to kiss. Give me one good honest kiss.”_

Embarrassment is something that takes Atsumu longer than most to get over. Yes, he knows this is dramatic. No, he doesn’t care. And instead of acting like an adult like he should, he’s hiding under his covers with all of the blinds shut so he can pretend like his entire world hasn’t fallen apart.

It’s okay, Atsumu rationalizes, this was bound to happen at some point. His emotions were never supposed to become this strong, become this large of a burden. He was supposed to tamper these down and be happy with being the best friend. 

The rational part of his brain tells Atsumu that he needs to crawl out of bed, take a shower, and answer the mountain of texts he’s been ignoring. Burying himself deeper into his pillows and duvet, though, sounds like a much better idea than all of that, if he’s being honest. But the growl that echoes from his stomach and through his room is what tells him he needs to get up. 

Atsumu sighs, annoyed at his own body for not listening to him and wraps the duvet around himself before slinking out of his bedroom and towards the kitchen.

“Hey, Tsumu.” Montoya's voice comes through the door. It shouldn’t shock him as much does, but hearing it is enough to make him freeze in the middle of his move to the kitchen. “It’s me, Motoya.”

Atsumu stays frozen in his spot, unsure if he should let the other man in or not.

“Osamu gave me some tuna onigiri when I told him I was coming over.”

_Samu, that fucker._

He takes a few steps forward, realizes that he’s still wrapped in his floral duvet with only his boxers underneath, and freezes again. As he stands there, Atsumu realizes that there are two things he can do in this situation.

The first is that he can answer the door in said outfit, let Motoya into his apartment, and look like a clown because of how he’s dressed. The benefit of that would be that at least Motoya would be in his apartment and they could talk. The downfall is that Motoya would see him at his lowest point and actually reject him for a second time. Although, at this point, the only thing he can lose is his pride.

The other thing he could do is shuffle away and pretend like he didn’t even hear Motoya knock in the first place. The benefit of this would be that Atsumu can shuffle into the kitchen, get a snack, and crawl back into bed where he can eat his food in peace. The downfall is that his friendship with Motoya would be completely thrown in the trash and the rest of his friends would probably treat him like broken glass for the next year.

It only takes him a few seconds to pad into the genkan, his pride left behind as he stares at the door in front of him. He knows there’s no going back once he lets the other man in, knows that his day spent in bed, feeling bad for himself, will no longer happen and he’ll actually have to face his problems.

“If I let ya in, ya can’t laugh at me.” His voice comes out a little rough, scratchy from lack of use and the amount of crying he has done over the last week. “Ya gotta promise me that before anything.”

He hears a laugh from the other side of the door and the sound of a paper bag rustling. “I promise not to laugh. But, if you don’t let me in soon, these are going to get cold.”

Another sigh leaves his mouth before reaching forward and unlocking the door. It takes him one, two, three seconds before cracking open the door enough to stick his head out. He belatedly remembers that he hasn’t washed his hair in days, that he didn’t even brush before leaving his room, and tries not to pull the blanket over the mess.

“I need another confirmation that ya won’t laugh at my outfit.”

“I promise,” Motoya says, a soft smile on his lips. “But, you have to let me in first.”

Atsumu pouts at that. He knows it’s too late not to let Motoya in, but another part of him wants to face his rejection here and now instead. The brunette in front of him shifts around, looks down the hall when he hears another door shut.

The hand around the doorknob works quicker than his mind, and before Atsumu can stop himself, he’s pulling the door open to reveal himself. It’s embarrassing to say the least, but it’d be even worse if his neighbors caught them discussing his silly little crush in the hallway.

Atsumu doesn’t give Motoya a moment to speak once he’s in the apartment, locking the door and shuffling into the apartment without so much as a glance behind him. It’s a poor attempt at saving face even after everything that has happened.

“Atsumu, wait.” Motoya follows after him, jacket hanging off of one shoulder. “We need to talk about—”

“We can talk after I eat,” Atsumu interrupts, head nodding at the bag in his hands. “I’m assuming Samu gave you extras since he knows I haven’t been cooking. He’s been texting me every day like our ma.”

There’s a hesitation in the way Motoya moves. It’s as if Atsumu is a scared animal that will bolt at any sudden movements and he hates that this is what their relationship is like now. It makes him want to cry again, this time for the loss of the comfort they once had.

He buries through the bag, smiling to himself when he sees the ones labeled with extra tuna. Throughout everything, it’s nice to be reminded that Osamu still cares even when Atsumu screens his calls. It’s only when Atsumu bites into an onigiri, does one of them speak.

“I didn’t know,” Motoya starts.“I didn’t know you cared about me like that, Tsumu. If I did, I wouldn’t have said it.”

“Motoya,” Atsumu mumbles around a mouthful of rice, but that’s as far as he gets before the other starts speaking.

“Tsumu, I didn’t include you in what I said. If you asked me out, I’d agree because I like you. I’ve liked you for a while now but never thought you felt the same because we’re best friends. That’s all I thought you saw us as.”

Atsumu tries not to choke on the rice in his mouth, shock freezing his limbs where he stands. The blanket wrapped around him is slipping off of his shoulders and he doesn’t make a move to stop it when it slips from his shoulder.

“What are ya talking about?”

Motoya looks like he’s now the one ready to bolt, some mix between fear and embarrassment crosses his face. It makes Atsumu hold onto the counter.

“I’m saying that I didn’t know dating was something we could do,” Motoya replies. “You never made it seem like you wanted to, you know? I figured you of all people would tell me if you felt like that.”

Atsumu can’t tell if he’s dreaming or not. This whole situation feels like some sort of surreal nightmare that his brain came up with. Is this onigiri even real? He looks at it, chews the leftover rice in his mouth, and swallows.

This is definitely happening.

“I don’t know what Suna told ya but, it’s fine.” He has to stop this before it goes any further. “Ya don’t have to pretend to like me just because ya feel bad, Toya.”

“Can you listen to what I’m saying? I’m saying I like you, Atsumu. I’ve liked you for a long time and didn’t know you felt this way until last week. Would you like to go on a date?”

The whole thing is rushed and Atsumu barely catches what is said. He would ask Motoya to repeat himself if he didn’t look like he would run away at the suggestion. Instead, he says the second thing that comes to his mind.

“Would ya still kiss me even when I look like this?”

That’s all it takes for the tension around them to break. Motoya takes three long strides to stand next to Atsumu, hands going to his jaw to pull him into a kiss. It’s soft and tastes like fresh rice and salt, he can feel a grain of rice stuck between their mouths.

Atsumus entire world explodes at that moment.

He drops the onigiri onto the cool tile and brings his hands to the back of Motoyas neck. Each centimeter of skin is hot beneath his touch, fingertips burning as they grip onto him. It turns sloppy and emotional when Atsumu runs his tongue over the seam of his lips and they lose themselves to the moment.

It’s Motoya that pulls away first.

“I guess our first date is me washing your hair.”

_“Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody”_

The tingling creep moving up Atsumu’s arm is what wakes him in the first place. There’s a weight on his arm that’s making it fall asleep quicker than he can wiggle his arm out from under whatever it is. When he tries prying his arm out, the weight only gets heavier and the tingling worse. It’s only when his shoulder starts to feel tingly does Atsumu open his eyes.

The room is still dark and his eyes have to adjust to see anything in front of him. But the view is worth the strain on his eyes because the sight of Motoya next to him is worth it. Even in the dark, he can see the lashes that brush against his cheeks, each hair that’s perfectly out of place from his tossing through the night.

It breaks his heart knowing he has to wake Motoya from his sleep, but he needs that damn arm to help him set.

“Toya.” Atsumu pushes at the frown between his brows when he doesn’t get an answer. “Toya, ya gotta get up or else my arm’s gonna go dead.”

A smile spreads across his face when Motoya buries himself closer to Atsumu, warmth flooding his body at the simple action. It’s ridiculous to let something so small get to him like this, but who could blame him when someone so cute is next to him?

 _Stay strong_ , he thinks, _you need this arm to hold hands with Toya._

“Toya,” he whines. “Come on. I’ll make ya favorite for breakfast if you roll off my arm.”

It both breaks Atsumus's heart and makes him smile when Motoya rubs his face against his arm and whines. The wrinkle between his brows happens once again, eyes still firmly shut.

“It’s too early, Tsumu. We only fell asleep a few hours ago.”

He laughs. “Baby, come on.”

Motoya peeks open an eye, mouth already in a pout. Atsumu can see that a retort is ready, and ducks his head to press their lips together. He feels more than hears another whine coming from his boyfriend.

“As much as I like cuddling with ya,” he whispers against Motoyas lips. “I need my arm to do that.”

“Fine,” Motoya sighs. He wiggles down until his head hits the mattress then pushes a chaste kiss on Atsumu’s chest. “That better?”

Atsumu whispers a soft thank you into soft strands, and flexes his fingers. Even with the feeling returning to his fingers, he doesn’t move. He doesn’t care much about anything else besides the two of them in bed together and the warmth spreading through his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> the love is stored in motoya's eyebrows. anyway, you can come scream at me on [ and ](https://twitter.com/sunasimps)[cc](https://curiouscat.qa/sunasimps) if you want to talk about them or any of the other rarepairs that have me in a chokehold


End file.
